Consider This
by MadMoFunk
Summary: Grimmjow has an itch to scratch while Ulquiorra and Ichimaru have a tea party. Seriously. It's EspadaTea. GrimmHime
1. Chapter 1

(Edited Jan. 18th 2009)

This has gone from a Three-Shot (3) to a projected 10 chapters. It all started with a drabble for the LJ comm 30kisses.

"Bleach" and its characters are the property of the awesome KuboTite- I'm just messing with them.

Occurs sometime after Ch. 213 – so brush up on your Bleach over at OneManga if you must.

Summary: Grimmjaw has an itch to scratch while Ulquiorra and Ichimaru have a tea party. Seriously. It's Espada/Tea.  
Pairing: GrimmjawXOrihime  
Contains: Suggestive themes, language.

0oO0oO

* * *

**"Consider this, even if it doesn't make sense."** Fionna Apple- "I Know"

* * *

0oO0oO

Sometimes it itches.

He thought he'd progressed passed this stage. Physically everything was as it should be, but something was off.

It still_ tingl_ed.

The sensation was familiar (odd enough as it was) but it wasn't something he'd come to anticipate. As a Hollow he felt pain and pride- as his own self he'd admit to feeling anger. Sensation was something he was limited in- so this feeling was amongst the oddest.

It was understandable at first- the pins-and-needles, sometimes an invisible itch he couldn't quite scratch. He ignored it when in the company of others; there was no way he'd give them the satisfaction of seeing him reach for something that wasn't there.

It was freaking humiliating enough as it was, having gone to Aizen and come back minus one limb. Even those that were less than discerning (WonderWeiss came to mind) could tell what had happened; worst of all was why. He'd felt like a petulant child upon arriving in the chamber, and once that damn Tousen had sliced _it_ off, Aizen acted like he'd been given a smack on the wrist.

Only in the solitude of his own chamber would Grimmjaw give into his burning nerves and grapple the empty space at his side.

He'd often wondered how something that wasn't there could be so fucking annoying.

But he hadn't had to endure it long, as fun as his farce had been (pretending that he hadn't in fact needed two arms). The lanky bastard that was Ulquiorra had delivered a woman to Aizen (later he would come to see her as _that_ shinigami's comrade- but for then she was just a human).

Imagine his surprise when his arm suddenly materialized as though Tousen had never severed it.

The arm was just as it had been; flawless and powerful.

The arrancar would have marvelled over the lack of scarring but he'd been occupied with more pressing matters. Aizen had called the woman's powers God-like, and Grimmjaw knew just how to test the range of this ability of hers.

Brand and rank restored, he'd wasted no time in putting his New-Old arm through Ruppi's obnoxious-self.

The arm worked fluently and his cero was potent as ever.

Reflecting on all this in his chamber days later he tried to remember the exact instant he could mobilize his renewed limb. The itch had been a constant reminder of what wasn't there but could still be felt. The feeling then and now wasn't all that different he realized. He'd always had the sensation- now he had something physically concrete to accompany it.

So maybe this woman's powers weren't as strong as he was lead to believe.

Flexing a muscle in his forearm he watched his fingers twitch. Grimmjaw glared at his palm accusingly before clenching his first and waiting for the knuckles to crack in consecutive order.

The perfect synchronization in which the limb now existed in was unnerving, but only by the fact that the damn thing still itched.

It was his arm- the same one that had been cleaved off and immolated- of this he was sure. So if that woman's ability truly was "event rejection" why did he still feel the nerves jump? Maybe the broad hadn't done the damn thing properly? She was capable of releasing the Hyougyoka according to Aizen, so "fixing" his arm should have been a simple task.

It was fucking annoying not having it (more so when it itched) but the fact it persisted once he'd had it restored was infuriating. He'd rather have no damn arm at all then go around with one that'd been tampered with. The more he thought about it, the less it felt like his own arm.

Upon closer inspection it didn't actually feel at all like his left; the nails looked too long- did it even have the same pigment? The limb was looking increasingly foreign.

This was his _arm_ for fuck sake- not a piece of machinery.

So Grimmjaw had decided the woman was going to fix it.

Again.

"And this time she better damn well do it properly." he muttered.

0oO0oO0oO0oO0oO

On his way through the halls he figured if the woman couldn't do this at the very least, Aizen had gotten himself a dud of a supposed 'god'. With no use for her maybe Aizen would stop wasting time (namely his) and he could finally smear that orange-haired shinigami all over the walls.

The reinstated Espada wasn't surprised to find the corridor to her chamber occupied. Ulquiorra it seemed had been given the 'task' of manipulating the human. Like it was _difficult_. On one hand Aizen's trust in Ulquiorra annoyed him, but then he remembered it was because the bastard was a soft-spoken coward that just happened to be good at kissing-ass.

_'Slim over there would probably pour Aizen's fucking tea if he was asked to'_, Grimmjaw mused as he sent the pale Espada a baleful look.

Much to his annoyance, Ulquiorra merely spared him the usual banal expression of vagueness he'd come to be associated with.

Mindful of his temper and not willing to risk the exposure of his presence he ignored the stoic Espada completely and made his way to the door frame. For a second it seemed Ulquiorra wasn't going to protest, but a long arm shot out, effectively barring his entry.

"Are you lost, Grimmjaw Jaggerjack?" he intoned.

"No."

"Then what do you think you are doing?" Ulquiorra asked, as though he'd made an insipid comment on the weather.

Grimmjaw scoffed. "It's none of your damn business so-"

"Unfortunately for me, everything beyond this door is under my jurisdiction. Unless Aizen-sama has given you express-"

"I don't _need_ permission," he growled threateningly. "I have business here."

Expecting an argument from Ulquiorra, he prepared himself to physically remove the Espada from his path when he saw the pale arrancars gaze shift passed his shoulder.

"Well, well, what's dear Grimmjaw-Kun doing all the way over here," an entirely too jocular voice echoed.

Damned Gin and his shunpo. Grimmjaw hated when the bastard snuck-up on him.

"Aah, this sure looks suspicious," Gin lulled with that disgusting grin of his. "Jaw-Kun isn't giving you trouble is he Ulquiorra?"

Grimmjaw could tell by the tilt of the shinigami's head that he was waiting for him to put a foot wrong. Ichimaru was a bastard like that. And creepy to boot.

"Aizen-Sama wouldn't be pleased Grimmjaw, one would think you'd be on your best behaviour after what happened last month..."

He weighed his options before speaking. He'd have to give enough to get what he wanted, while saying as little as possible. That was the trick with Gin.

"The woman fucked up my arm, she's going to fix it." he stated factually and turned to face Ichimaru.

The ex-shinigami looked like Christmas had come early; Grimmjaw began to worry if he'd said too much. The last thing he wanted was to provide Aizen with a reason to keep an eye on him. Or eyes. One wandering one in particular. He'd already drawn enough attention to himself earlier. Gin was about as lucid as mud, and even more shifty. Anything Gin got his claws on would no doubt make its way back to Aizen.

"Well if that's the case I'm sure Aizen-Sama wouldn't mind you paying Orihime-Chan a little visit." Ichimaru purred, eying the closed door.

In his peripheral vision he could see Ulquiorra shift in his objection. It was the only action that would betray his current state of annoyance. His face remained much like a mask.

"Don't you agree, Ulquiorra?" baited the shinigami expectantly. If Gin wanted his compliance, he'd twist words and grin until he got it.

The sallow arrancar blinked slowly before inclining his head, "...if you think it's wise, Ichimaru."

Grimmjaw's face broke into a sneer. It looked like he'd get the last laugh this time.

Moving swiftly towards the door, goal within reach, he halted when a pallid hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Whirring around and preparing to knock Ulquiorra flat, he faltered when Ichimaru stood there instead, grinning malignly.

"Be sure to treat Hime-Chan nicely Jaw-Kun, she's our guest after all. I'd hate for you to get punished again." While the words echoed in the archway, Grimmjaw couldn't help but look passed the shinigami towards his fellow Espada.

Sure enough Ulquiorra had as much a smile on as he could manage. It was barely a twitch of the lip, but his large eyes said what his lips did not.

_Who's laughing now? _

He felt a lour bloom on his face, and he shrugged roughly to straighten his cambric jacket.

"Ulquiorra looks like he could use some tea, Ichimaru-San," he ground out. "I'm _sure_ he'd enjoy your company."

_Fuck you. _

Grimmjaw didn't give a flying fuck about why the shinigami liked tea so goddamn much- but if it would get Tall-and-Sickly out of his hair for a few precious minutes he didn't care what they did. It was because he knew Gin had some perverse asphyxiation with annoying the dull Espada to death. It probably had something to do with the fact that Ulquiorra couldn't emote if his life depended on it, nor would he object the shinigami's suggestion. Disdain slid over Gin like oil off water. It was unable to stick.

Ichimaru's grin broadened, "Gladly...You _are_ looking a bit peaky Ulquiorra, more so than usual."

Grimmjaw watched with supreme satisfaction as Gin clapped a bony hand over the arrancar's shoulder, all the while Ulquiorra bore holes back at him.

_I'm going to kill you. _

"Neh, Ulquiorra, don't worry. We'll be back shortly- If we hurry we can join Aizen-Sama for his afternoon tea."

_A lot. _

Grimmjaw was extremely pleased with the uncomfortable look on his 'brothers' face. Ichimaru while well aware made no move to take his hand from the shorter Espada. Grimmjaw felt a swell of... _something,_ for Ichimaru Gin at that moment. Don't misunderstand- he hated the shinigami with a passion- but he hated the other Espada more.

Shifting back towards the door Grimmjaw grasped the handle before Ichimaru's voice made him pause.

"Before we leave... Tousen said something interesting the other day, you know?"

Grimmjaw was standing on a precipice. He knew he wouldn't get out of this that easily.

"...aah, I may have heard something about it." He replied stonily.

Ichimaru's amusement was almost palpable. "He said it came off easily. I'd be interested to see just _how_ easily- if you give me a reason."

Grimmjaw gripped the elaborate handle of one of the double-doors tightly.

"Say 'Hi,' to Hime-Chan for me, won't you?" Ichimaru ventured innocently before slinking off down the dark hall with Ulquiorra in tow.

"Fucking bastards," he found himself murmuring before casting the door open and slipping inside noiselessly.

0oO0oO

* * *

Please review!

Notes: ahh, my brain just ran with this one. It was supposed to be very serioso and wax poetic etc- but it turned out somewhat humorous. The Espada remind me of too-many college boys living in one house. I figured I may as well let the characters mess with each other before the sht hits the fan- because it's fun.

I hope you enjoyed it.

I'm off to have some tea as well- do you think Ulquiorra will survive his endeavour? Probably...


	2. Chapter 2

(Edited Jan.18th 2009)

Notes: Viva la update, right?

Terribly sorry this took so long! I was overwhelmed by the response to chapter one, I appreciate every comment and critique, so thank you! I really hope this chapter doesn't disappoint anyone- it fleshes out characters a lot, adds a little sub-plot, sets up for the next chapters big 'Confrontation- Oh- Doom' etc.  
No worries however, I want the Grimm!Kitty/Inoue goodness as much as the next person- we're getting there, I promise. This damn thing called plot... it keeps side tracking me.

Kubo Tite: Is a genius. He also holds the copyright to Bleach.

0oO0oO

* * *

In a world that is unwhole  
You have got to fight to keep your soul  
Some would rather give than receive  
Some would rather give up before they believe

-Ben Harper, Give a man a home

* * *

.

..

...

"Ahh, Gin. I was wondering where you had slunk off to. I was starting to think you'd forgotten our little 'date'."

If possible his smile broadened. "Neh, Aizen-sama- such little faith in me. I make our little parties a priority you know? Today I brought a friend with me; he walked a bit slow on the way here." The Shinigami gestured minutely behind him.

"I was unaware that Ulquiorra was one of your..._close relations_. It seems I don't know my Espada as well as I initially thought." Aizen smirked. "Should I be worried?"

Gin seated himself to the right of Aizen, resting his chin on bridged fingers innocently. Eying the lone Espada with purpose, Ichimaru settled himself.

"He looks like he could use some warm tea, don't you think Aizen-sama? He works so hard for you after all; he's all skin and bones." intoned the Ex-Captain, humor in his voice barely concealed.

Aizen merely glanced at Gin with his crooked smile before turning to the Espada.

"Ulquiorra Schiffer, come and sit. I'm sure we can find something of interest to discuss."

Bowing his head, the Espada shifted towards an ornate chair, readying the use of his eye. He had a feeling he'd need it for the next few hours.

0oO0oO

* * *

0oO0oO

A labyrinth and half away another meeting was taking place. Or would have been- if one party member had cared to be prompt. Aaroniero was rude like that- his tardiness was nothing unusual- but it annoyed him all the same. Not just because it was incredibly rude, but because he had much better things to do with his time then wait around for disgusting, foul little-

_Patience..._

Picking an invisible hair follicle from off his shoulder the lithe figure made a rather poor attempt to remain patient, settling for absently clicking well groomed nails against cold stone.

He was a busy man- he didn't care to wait on others- or at all if he could help it. No, this was setting back his schedule.

If it weren't for Aaroniero's 'collection' he wouldn't even be bothering with the lowly slob- but then again the ninth Espada did have a few pieces of interest to him- one in particular. There was only so many interesting things to create with ones own material. What he needed was fresh parts; pliable and in good condition. He was tired of the ones that littered his floors- the same concept- identical structure- too many limitations- too expendable.

Something a little more fresh and complex was what he wanted. A mind of his nature needed constant fodder, lest he lose his sharpness or worse- become bored. And currently he was dangerously close to the latter. If his 'associate' failed to show himself soon he'd have to resort to wandering out to the tunnels to see what he could find.

"You look positively pissed off, _Doctor_."

Regardless of being the shorter of the two, Szayel-Aporro still managed to look down his nose at the Espada rounding the corner.

As congenially as possible "What makes you say that." Szayel lulled, shrugging indifferently from his position against the wall.

"Because I decided to extend my afternoon nap- and I apparently neglected to inform you."

Szayel arched a fine rose brow. "_Neglect_ is not the word that came to mind_, dear friend_."

Stretching languorously in a way that suggested a deep yawn, Aaroniero stopped just out of arms reach. Adjusting somewhat skewed clothing that looked like they had indeed been slept in (more than once). Szayel had no doubt that the taller Espada had done exactly as he'd said:

Show up when it was most convenient for himself- regardless of any prior arrangements.

Szayel felt his blood-pressure rise.

The quicker he duped this fool the quicker he could get away from him. Simply looking at the other Espada made him _feel_ stupid. The company wasn't conducive to intelligence- in fact- he was rather allergenic.

"Let's get down to business shall we? Then you can go back to that dark tower of yours and do whatever it is you do ."

"Heh, wouldn't you like to know?"

"I have _some_ standards Aaroniero- don't insult me by suggesting otherwise." He groused as he pushed osseous frames up the bridge of his nose.

Although Szayel couldn't see his face he held the suspicion Aaroniero was tossing a rather lewd grin his way.

"…not according to Nnoitora…" the taller uttered with a muffled voice.

"Something you wanted to say to me, Arruruerie?"

" - What was it you wanted again?" he chanced quickly, now conveniently wide awake.

"Hhn." Was the dry response he was given.

Perhaps Szayel-Aporro could rend the annoying character from the other Espada- certainly whichever facsimile was left would function normally? _Err- As normal as per usual._ Mulling the thought over an interesting idea sparked in his head. -_Later. Now_-

"What say we relocate to somewhere a little more beneficial- for the both of us. It's a bit on the bright side, neh?" Szayel-Aporro inclined his attention briefly to the window high overhead; moonlight cascading down to illuminate the hallway in a pale light.

0oO0oO

* * *

0oO0oO

Her eyes were beginning to ache.

The moons pale light flooded the center of the chamber, throwing a stark contrast over the symmetrical furnishings within.

Orihime hadn't realized how long she'd been craning her neck to gaze out the window until she'd glanced away briefly and found her eyes unaccustomed to the natural dark of the room. Waiting for the spots in her vision to clear, she remarked that her neck would probably be stiff the next morning as a result. She didn't look forward to the pain asserting itself like it no doubt would.

Rolling her head in order to release the tension between her shoulders, Orihime swung away from the window to drape herself on the plush sofa. Curled round to keep the barred portrait of night sky in her line of vision, she couldn't help but sigh regretfully.

The window- her window- was beginning to disappoint her.

In the beginning she'd been able to take a small amount of relief in the existence of that pane. She'd come in Las Noches through a door and knew she wouldn't be leaving through one. It afforded her a glimpse of the place outside her prison. Specifically, a place away from Aizen and those Espada people. _Err, creatures..._

Orihime was vigilant in watching the atmosphere through that window, to the point she'd fallen asleep and lamented the fact she'd missed seeing the sun. It took her what must have been another few hours of pinching herself awake to realize there _was_ no sun.

The next unforgivable slight came from the view itself.

She suddenly didn't wonder why the people here were so foul- she'd be the same way in this environment.

A Dayless existence aside, she never so much as saw a wisp of cloud cross her frame. It were as though the wind had died and the sky was immobile without the impetus. A blank canvas was more stirring than the reality from her sad excuse for a window.

As far as windows went, Orihime was hedging on the belief that hers did in fact, suck.

_And who would put something way up there?_

_You'd have to be a giant to have a hope of looking out at a level plane._

B_uilding stilts shouldn't be too difficult, or magic beans to-_

Orihime tugged at her hair in frustration. " I'm considering beanstalks while locked in a tower, surrounded by murderers with loaded finger tips. This is too much." She sighed, smothering her face into a white cushion.

Not for the first time she considered admitting that agreeing to come here may have been a grave error on her part. A grave, and very stupid error.

This was Aizen's abode, his practical playground for Hollows, stolen Urahara 'merchandise', and degenerate Shinigami.

_Sousuke Academy for Wayward Souls. Staff ask that students keep blood-letting to a minimum in non-designated area's._

The Man That Fooled The Gotei-Thirteen aside, the resident Arrancar inhabiting the compound could number in the hundreds and that in itself was a problem. And all it had taken was one...

Ulquiorra made her frightfully aware of the difference in strength between Espada and Shinigami...Substitute Shinigami included.

_Kurosaki-kun was pushed so hard... his eyes..._

Unsettled by the memory, Orihime shifted restlessly.

"It's useless thinking things like that now...this situation...heh, I must be crazy." Folding a hand across her eyes she voiced a mirthless laugh.

While her lips formed a smile, it didn't catch properly, and she was left with a sad purse of the lips.

_This room, is going to be the end of me... I wish I had a ladder...and a hacksaw... _

_The people here, what do I do... when will I need to..._

"I should sleep. I really might go crazy if I keep talking to myself." Pushing clearer thoughts to the forefront she lowered her hand.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news Woman, but it looks like it's a little too late for that." A gruff voice echoed from the previously closed doorway.

Jumping out of her skin with a sharp gasp Inoue Orihime swung wildly to her feet to find an Espada much to close for comfort.

_This was such a horrible idea..._

"Your nap will have to wait Woman. You and I have unfinished _business_."He intoned, targeting her with a piercing gaze.

Vaguely it crossed her mind that this was in fact, Her Worst Idea. _Ever._

The heavy door slammed shut behind him with a clang of finality.

Orihime knew she'd had some pretty bad ideas, but this...this made leeks and peanut butter look tame.

...

..

.

* * *

Notes:

-Please be aware, I'm not trying to abuse the ellipses here, I'm just anal retentive about spacing and The Pitt has sucky editing features.

- So, DO WANT? DO NOT WANT? Let me know. Any questions? Hopefully there are no grammatical errors!

-Lastly, I'm sad to report that Grimmjow X Ball Of Yarn is my new ship.


	3. Chapter 3

(Edited Jan.18th 2009)

-Check bio page for info about updates.

Notes: I'm proud that the turnover time between chapters is getting smaller. You should be proud to! Or does anyone still read this? The response to the last chapter was sparse. This story has run off with my mind and I really want to finish it. So feed my muse and drop a comment!

Kubo Tite = Copy Write.

0oO0oO

* * *

Well it's a lonely road that you have chosen  
And it's a long time since your heart was frozen

Morning comes and you don't want to know me anymore  
For a moment your eyes open and you know  
All the things I ever wanted you to know

I don't know you, and I don't want to  
Till the moment your eyes open and you know

That it's a lonely place that you have run to  
Morning comes and you don't want to know me anymore  
And it's a lonely end that you will come to

-Your Eyes Open, Keane

* * *

.

"_Your nap will have to wait Woman. You and I have unfinished business_."

.

* * *

0oO0oO

.

It was as though he'd slammed her into a wall. The instant numbness in her limbs threatened to shatter her bones like ice, to the point she felt the air being stolen from her lungs. Chest burning, as though under a great pressure she found it difficult to swallow. Orihime felt herself waver, breaking eye contact with the glowering man across from her and stepped back haltingly.

He'd simply looked at her- leaving her literally without air; the oppressive reiatsu was that strong. She still felt it licking off him like flames, straining around her; smothering.

It reminded her of Ichigo's often blaring powers. But unlike him, Grimmjow's reiatsu was purely offensive in nature, intent upon not simply overpowering but devouring. From the solitary existence inside her room it served as an unfriendly reminder of her dangerous circumstance.

The Espada in front of her was all hard angles and rigid planes. From his severe glare to the firm stance of his legs.

"So… you're the new foible." it was more of a statement than anything, Unsure of whether he expected her to agree she remained silent.

"Woman, what's your name?" Her reply was whispered cautiously.

"And tell me why you're here…"

Despite her better judgment she allowed herself to balk at his request. The question rang familiar to her. Stalling to allow her memory to catch up she spoke with a non-committal tone. "Um, I...what?"

"There's a reason you idiot," Was his caustic reply. Her latest 'guest' apparently was a fan of the straight and narrow. "Now what- if anything- is useful about you? For what reason are you here?"

The words rang true in her memory then. Ulquiorra had asked her the same thing the other day. Did he not know that? Was he angling for a different response? Was this a test? Just how much was riding on this encounter?

"Think carefully woman."

Unable to decide or come to terms with her inner turmoil, the panic that was always close at hand these days sprung to the surface like a promise kept. Before she could temper the storm the flood gates collapsed inside her and she began to sputter words. She hated verbal diarrhea.

"Do you mean this exact room, or this place in general? I mean, um, oh god- I was going through the Senkaimon with two Shinigami when- actually I think they were seated officers- but I wasn't sure! I didn't take the time to ask which I suppose was really rude of me but then I was in a rush so- "

"Shut up!" He shared the sentiment, apparently.

Inoue flinched at the boom of his voice before tucking her chin and averting her eyes nervously.

Through her peripheral vision she watched him stalk further into the length of the room, no longer between her and the door. Of all the stupid things to do she was sorely tempted to make a dash for the door. She surmised she'd get about a step before he came down on her.

The Espada turned back to her. "Let me rephrase that. Although I don't usually do this, in this case what benefits _me_, benefits you." She nodded her head with sharp understanding.

"You're going to give me one good reason why I shouldn't crush your throat right now, and I'll consider it. At the moment I'm tempted. So tell me what I want to know and we can get down to business." The idea of doing any sort of business with this Espada -Grimmjow was what Aizen had called him- was disconcerting.

Mouth oddly dry, Inoue reiterated the same answer Ulquiorra had requested from her, though somewhat stilted. The visceral burn in her throat made it difficult.

"What the fuck was that? How in the hell can anyone understand that. Speak clearly and for fuck sake quit crying- it's disgusting."

Her hands quickly made their way to her face, finding twin trails of liquid salt. She scrubbed furiously with her wrists and palms to keep them from dripping down her cheeks. After succeeding in making a wet mess of herself the fitted sleeves of her clothing did the job.

The last thing she wanted to do was look weak in front of this person. Or any of Them. She was helpless enough already.

Grimmjow watched her debacle with increasing irritation. The fact that she was alive at all offended him immensely, but the fact she had the gall to be effusive on top of human, that didn't sit well with him in the least.

Damn woman. He needed something so simple and she had to be all 'female' about it.

"I see your lips moving and your face leaking but I'm not hearing what I want to hear. You're really bad at selling yourself human. And now it's going to cost you ."

Before she had time to look at him Grimmjow had flickered behind her, grabbing a fistful of auburn hair and yanking _hard_ to the left. The pressure on her scalp was only eclipsed by the pain in her side as she connected with the opposite wall. Orihime hissed through clenched teeth before she felt herself being forcefully uprighted by the front of her garb.

He watched the pain and fear play across her face with detached interest. Normally he'd have no qualms about roughing someone up, but the level of frustration this situation with his arm was causing him really blew his patience. Then there was also the fact that she was technically Aizens property and therefore Not For Punching.

Ulquiorra would no doubt notice if he hurt the girl...woman...child. He wasn't sure what she was. The arm fisting the throat of her robes knew, but her behaviour denoted otherwise. How could she look so 'mature' and be that naive at the same time? Grimmjow had a hard time deciding if she was being coy or stupid.

Huge assets and lack of mental faculties aside, she was going to fix her mistake and she was going to like it.

A soft groan reestablished his focus to the woman who's neck he was probably (for all intensive purposes, like _breathing_) holding too tightly. The small fingers prying at his grip were almost as offensive as her attempt to free herself.

Loosing his fingers he thrust her down where she lay in a gasping heap, greedily drawing in breath. Not waiting for her to look up at him he pulled her back to her feet by her wrist, taking a little more time as he went. It wouldn't do for her to have _too_ many bruises.

"Ready to talk?" He inquired stonily, allowing her to step back.

"Shun-Shun-Rika," Inoue gasped out heavily. It was now painfully apparent that Grimmjows and Ulquiorras questions were in no way connected. He'd had his own reason for coming to her. She'd never wished for Ulquiorras presence more than at that moment.

Looking up warily to the remaining Espada in question she felt her blood run dry at the grimace on his face.

"Now we're getting somewhere."

...

.

* * *

.

...

"You three can come out now. They've all gone."

The man standing in the bare out cropping of rock spoke with his back to them. Not once had his posture suggested they had been discovered, as covert and silent as they had endeavoured to be. Perhaps his shop wasn't located in the district it was simply by unfortunate circumstance. Regardless, they'd been found out; shifty-ninja-skilled shop owner or not.

"Uh, y-you knew?"

"Keigo!? Shut up!"

"Ow! What!? He already knows we're here!"

Keigo slumped out from behind their cover holding his throbbing ear, while Mizuiro appeared next to him with a considerably greater amount of composure, though looking slightly chagrinned at having been caught. "I guess we weren't as stealthy as we thought...heh. When did you-"

"From the moment you set foot outside."

At that a rather put-out Tatsuki moved brusquely to her companions sides, not sparing either a glance. Noting her mood, Mizuiro continued. "Why didn't you say anything if-"

"Would you have wanted me to?"

"...I s'pose not." The boy visibly deflated in resignation.

"Well, you know Kurosaki Ichigo. He isn't the type of person to share his burdens. Try not to think poorly of him though. He'll be back." The utter nonchalance of this man was disconcerting to say the least. It aggravated as much as it teased.

Tatsuki charged in. "How do you know?! What are they- Where did- What's going on!?"

"Arisawa, maybe we shouldn't-"

"Shut _up_, Keigo!"

"My, but these questions tire me out! And I have work of my own to tend to. Things will sort out. Just wait."

"Just a minute here, you have to tell us what's-"

"Tessai will escort you out."

And as quickly as Tatsuki had found a clue, a lead, a _something_ to explain this crazy business, she was back at square one.

"Come on, Arisawa. Let's go."

She would follow Mizuiro and Keigo up the ladder and thank the silent spectacled shop hand. She would follow them in downcast silence until they parted ways at an intersection blocks later. And then she would run all the way back to Urahara Shoten to come face to face with the man wearing a hat and geta.

"I can see why Kurosaki likes you. He's got good taste in friends."

.

* * *

.

He had no idea why she'd seemed so reticent earlier during their meeting. She was more than willing to talk to him now.

For a moment it seemed that the words- sounds really (words are separated by breaks in the noise after all), were bursting from between her ribs, reverberating through her flesh. Anything to help expel them faster.

He was wondering if it was like a plug had been pulled- the damn kid had only had Tall- and - Sickly for socialization, and he knew better than anyone that Ulquiorra wasn't what you'd call a conversationalist. Reticent to a point more like.

_How can something so little have that much lung capacity…does it breathe? Is that huge chest just filled with air? _

...So there'd be no point in asking him how to shut her up. Was there an off switch? Breaking her jaw seemed like the surefire way to go about it but… repercussions, repercussions.

He'd understood the fundamentals of her loquacious nonsense easily enough, now however, he had no clue what the hell she was on about.

The Espada abruptly raised a hand to silence her and Orihime swallowed the words on her tongue. Neck cracking loudly, Grimmjow rubbed a rough palm down his face. The gesture was synonymous with wiping something foul - stupidity perhaps- from his eyes.

"So you're saying a group a defunct fairies come from those tin scraps in your hair, then you can re-assemble physical matter by 'rejecting event outcome' after it occurs?"

Here he found himself beginning to question Aizen's planning skills for not the first time. Aizen was clearly very smart or extremely the reverse. How is a skill like that supposed to help use the Hougyoka? Replacing limbs? She clearly failed that endeavour. The only thing she seemed competent in was erasing flesh wounds and _talking_.

"It … ah, they help me to undo what's been done. I- I think that's why I'm here."

"…that's all the swishy bright crap that you used on my arm." He gestured to the limb before she nodded succinctly.

"Well it doesn't fucking work! You and your damn light show flies botched the job!"

When the vacant alarm on her face remained, without the statement registering the way he'd intended it to Grimmjow felt compelled to growl. Rolling his eyes, the line of his mouth became heavier.

"Tch." Straitening up, he made a show of unjamming his hands from the luminous folds of his pants. Shrugging Grimmjow removed his left shoulder from its confines and proceeded to shuck off the rest of the coat none too gently.

The abruptness of the motion, an angry flurry as it was, startled her. The existence of an angry, half-dressed man in her room wasn't that comforting either.

"So here's how it's going to work. You fix it the right 'effing way this time and I won't have to tell Aizen you're a useless waste of time. My arm gets fixed- you get to live another day- everyone goes home happy."

If '_home_' had struck a cord within her Grimmjow hadn't noticed.

"It… it's never not worked before…" She supplied hesitantly.

"First time for everything woman, you're human after all- being worthless happens to your kind. Get used to it."

She looked somehow stricken before contemplating his words seriously. "Maybe… Maybe I didn't finish completely the first time. I was a bit...um, under pressure." She ventured weakly, followed by a forced lift at the corner of her mouth.

The meek and basic appeasing look on her face made him want to slam something against a wall. His head probably. Anything to ease the headache he felt coming."Whatever. Less talking more lights."

The process was ritual to her first attempt at restoring his limb. The same odd warming sensation, hum of her reiatsu, and alien glow. After a few long moments she stopped. The results too, were the same.

Grimmjow tested the limb. A finger twitched, sending the muscle in his forearm into small rhythmic spasms.

Cursing he rounded on the small woman watching expectantly from alongside.

"This was such a waste of my damn time! Making up for your incompetence. If Aizen isn't satisfied he'll get rid of you. Permanently. No merit in keeping a broken _toy_, right?"

Inoue gnashed her teeth together waiting for the blow. It occurred to her there need only be one. This was it. She was going to die. All because this guy had nerve damage or an overactive imagination. She had hoped to go out in better taste. Or you know, after having _done_ something. What would her gravestone say?

But the flare of his reiatsu never left his body.

"You better watch it, Chick. I'd be happy to put you out of your misery myself."

Before Orihime could count her blessings the Espada trudged from the room, making a point to slam the door as he went. She felt rather than heard the hairline fractures web from the door jamb.

She felt her pulse calm, and took a deep breath, sliding to the floor limply.

_'What just happened?'_

_. _

..

...

* * *

_._

Thus concludes Chapter 3!

Please, feed my muse!

Review and ye shall receive!


End file.
